


A Gift Lost

by zero_paradise



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Dragon Ball Super ark, F/M, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 01:43:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12312171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zero_paradise/pseuds/zero_paradise
Summary: What sort of man, forgets his priorities when his woman was concerned? Staring death in the eye, it was easy to say it was the end of the world. Nothing mattered now that Beerus was raining down on them. No one would be spared. His priority, to hold him off—he thought—Then, to watch and observe Kakarot, should even he fail…Even if he could do nothing; Vegeta would rise to the challenge again. He had to be vigilant, others would watch over his wife. If any of them survived.She was strong and endured his passing before.What sort of man, lies to himself? Over and over.





	A Gift Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, so this will be the very first fic I’ve ever made public. Typically, I just share in my circle of friends, but none of them are really a vegebul fan…So here I am! I don’t have a beta reader, my apologies for any mistakes. This is a quick one shot, a what if scenario. Please review and leave comments! There will be a lovely image if I can figure out the formatting lololol

__

What sort of man, forgets his priorities when his woman was concerned? Staring death in the eye, it was easy to say it was the end of the world. Nothing mattered now that Beerus was raining down on them. No one would be spared. His priority, to hold him off—he thought—Then, to watch and observe Kakarot, should even he fail…Even if he could do nothing; Vegeta would rise to the challenge again. He had to be vigilant, others would watch over his wife. If any of them survived.  


She was strong and endured his passing before.  


What sort of man, lies to himself? Over and over.

__  


Days prior to the arrival of the god, Vegeta had noticed something pulsating from Bulma. His stare caught her off guard, “What? Like what you see? Mr Prince?” 

Vegeta pretended to scoff and turn away, though he was certain he felt it a new life form pulsating within his woman. Under his cool exterior and fiend scowl, a proud smile was born. They hadn’t been trying for another child but they hadn’t been as diligent with earth practices of safe sex. He sneered at the thought, it was a wasted step slowing them down in their lewd desires, but he respected her wishes. 

“Woman.” He turned, eyebrows knitted together watching her tap away busily on her phone. She flicked her wrist at him: telling him to shush, taking a business-related call. He watched her sashay across the room. Even on the phone where no one could see her she walked tall brimming with confidence. 

Suddenly, their son barged into the room and begun to shout—though inpart to training, his sharp eyes noticed his mother’s stance and voice and quickly silenced himself. The young Saiyan didn’t stop himself from running over and hugging her leg grinning up at her. Bulma whole heartedly returned the smile and touched her hand to his cheek, while still handling the call with un-interrupted ease.

Vegeta smirked watching his small family. Another member would be welcomed into their family, Kakarot would no longer have one up on him. Hah! It was obvious the woman had yet to realize that child resided in her womb. He wasn’t ashamed to admit, he’d learned of human female’s menstrual cycle (Goku gawked and attempted to quiet him when Vegeta breached the subject). There was nothing wrong with understanding the signs of a body, particularly when it concerned weak human bodies. She wasn’t due for some time, it wasn’t surprising she was unawares. 

This time, he would be the one to break the surprise. Vegeta’s eyebrow twitched. He wasn’t sure why he was swelling pride. Tch. The harpy had been berating him lately, what he was going to get her for her birthday. Gift-giving was still beneath him but perhaps this year, he would make an exception. Be the king of gift-givers.  
“Boy.” Vegeta motioned with a single hand motion for Trunks to follow him, leaving his mother to finish up her phone call. When called Trunks instantly flocked to his father’s side, never wanting to be told twice. He knew already they must be going to train, it was their together time. Though this time, they stopped briefly in one of the many halls of the compound. Vegeta folded his arms and stared down at his son, who stood at attention. 

Trunks panicked, did dad know about the fight? It was a giant snake! He should be proud he fought, though it had taken more time than it should have…Not to mention he and Goten had technically gone farther out than allowed but—His thoughts were set straight as his father finally continued on (thankfully he didn’t rat himself out).  
“I am amending our promise.” Vegeta stated firmly. “The amuseme-“ before he could finish, Trunks floated in the air, meeting his father eye to eye. His glare was stern, it ran in the family, inheriting it from both parents. “Men don’t break promises!” The child tried to defend the deal, taken back his father had finally brought it back up. Truthfully the youth had figured it’d been an empty ploy to push his training.

Vegeta didn’t bother flaring up his energy, he stood stern and still, waiting for Trunks to lower himself again. Once both feet were planted firmly on the ground, the child pulled his lips tight in a pout, trying not to scream and shout, did Vegeta continue. His father’s patience was thin, Trunks knew better (for the most part) than to press on in a tantrum.  
“We’re going to a resort instead. Your mother wants to relax. I don’t want to deal with children screaming. Is thi-“

“You’ll still go right?” Trunks interrupted, bounding up in the air again, grinning from ear to ear. “Can we get ice cream, you’ll go shopping with us? But if there’s resort, we have to all go on a water slide!” The boy wasn’t phased by the change of venue, as long as all members of his family were involved, no one was backing out. Smiling, Trunks pumped his fists in the air, “Resort, resort!” He chanted. 

“Hn.” Vegeta only nodded and started on towards the gravity room, expecting his son to follow along. It was true, Bulma had mentioned wanting a weekend getaway and he didn’t want to hear anyone screaming (much less just children). His other reasoning however, was simple. Her body couldn’t handle amusement parks in her current state. Human bodies were delicate and he had since learned of their limitations. Which were not limited to thrilling rides and drinks, two of her favorites. Being as stubborn as she was, it would have been impossible to keep her off a roller coaster without telling her his once in a life time birthday gift.

 

With the plans arranged, Vegeta casually tossed in a pair of sneakers into Bulma’s bag while she packed their bags. She’d only packed fashionable sandals and heels to show off for the weekend. He wouldn’t have her starting to prattle on about her feet and back. All that was left was sleep. Which he would need to endure the trip.

“I’m training my patience, woman. Nothing more.” He grunted as he kicked up the comforters she’d so tightly tucked in earlier in the day. He folded his arms behind his head, resting back on his pillow, listening as she yammered on. Sometimes to him, then to Trunks as she helped him finish his bag (and triple checked its content), and finally a few last minute calls to her secretary. Her phone chimed once plugged in and the bed hardly dipped as she eased in beside him. Her fingers giving a quick swipe to the touch lamp at her bedside. 

“It’s rare you’re in bed before me,” Bulma yawned resting her head to his shoulder and her hand to his bare chest. 

“Hn. Get used to it for the weekend.” Vegeta grunted, much preferring an early bed opposed to mingling with the vacation crowd. His hands rubbed from her shoulder, along her arm stopping at her wrist: at the same time both parents lifted their heads, noting the capsule corp watch still on her person. “Oops-“ Bulma begun to pull back, only stopping as Vegeta caught her wrist and wordless removed the watch and set it on the table to his left. Free of it, the Saiyan brought her wrist to his lips, lightly kissing it before gently returning it to his chest. His hand resting atop hers, keeping it in place.

Bulma’s smile and blush was hidden in the dark of the night, “I love you too, Vegeta.” She whispered and leaned closer, turning her head to kiss his shoulder. “Goodnight.”

 

He’d seen her exit the shower this morning, while he still laid in bed, unmoving pretending to still be in a stubborn slumber (really, he’d prefer to forego the trip entirely). It was his means of protesting, but, since he and the aquamarine hair woman had gotten close, the nights they did share a bed…He never slept before her and always woke when her body stirred. Normally, he kept his eyes shut in his pretense. Listening and feeling the vibrations of her movements and energy. Though this morning the strong scent of roses wafting from the bathroom as the door opened, urged him to open his eyes. He could see her nipples starting to darken, her breasts slightly larger. A smile was hidden under his pillow. Vegeta’s eyes skillfully closed when Bulma turned his way. She carefully tiptoed across the room in the nude, only her hair up in a towel. She never caught wise to being watched, otherwise he was certain she’d start putting on a show. Enjoying the unfortunate amount of control she had over him.

Vegeta heard the dresser drawer open, the top right—she was getting into her lingerie. Stupid woman. The deed was already done—still he welcomed her need to try to entice him for more. His thoughts hushed, as if she could hear them, when she crossed to his bedside.

“Wake up, prince.” She cooed softly kissing the back of Vegeta’s neck and rubbed his muscled arms. “I know you’d much rather be training but…A training free weekend starts now, babe.” Bulma yanked the covers off, making even a grown Saiyan grunt. Her hand slapped against his ass. The woman was bold.

“Up. UP! We need to get going,” Bulma stepped away before taking a big breath, cupping one hand at the side of her mouth (Vegeta ducked his head under the pillows). “Trunks! You better be up, buddy! Teeth brushed!” She hollered then turned and yanked Vegeta’s last defense away and dropped the pillow at the foot of the bed. Her towel loosened from its wrap and she carelessly tossed it on the back of the chair of her vanity. Vegeta finally looked up, his scowl hard and dark compared to her bright, beautiful smile.  
Not wishing to show a lack of discipline, Vegeta sat up on the edge of the bed. Bulma walked in front of him, her thighs brushed against his knees as she stopped to pick up her watch from the bedside stand. Before she fully bent over, Vegeta snatched her by the waist and pulled her close, between his legs. His calloused hands rubbed the smooth small of her back. His other rested on her thic thigh. 

“Woman.” His voice hard as ever, but Bulma’s body flushed at his tenderness. His forehead briefly rested on her abdomen. Her stomach flipped feeling his breathe lips press against her belly. “V-Vegeta? You awake?” She teased and rubbed her hand over his coarse hair and down his neck. Maybe this vacation meant a break from his usual cold demeanor as well (a girl could wish).

Close to her body, Vegeta could easily see the white streaks; their patterns reminded him of power, resilient lightening. It was a shame she spent hours applying products to her skin. He never bothered to keep track of how many, just observed from a distance, during her pregnancy and there after she was rubbing something on her body. Trying to minimize the “damage” she called it. Stretch marks, a woman’s greatest enemy. Tch. He traced his fingers over the faint lines, earthling lies and subpar standards. These were marks that could mirror his own, remnants of a battle to be proud of. The lines were not only on her thighs, but her stomach and around her breasts. He wanted to touch them all, yet refrained. She’d prattle on about how ugly they were—hmph. 

Vegeata’s eyebrows knitted into a scowl, hearing what she’d have to say without Bulma ever speaking a word. He’d much rather hear other sounds so early. Still with silence between them, Vegeta cupped his hand on the back of her thigh and pushed force to the small of Bulma’s back. He guided her down to her knees, straddling him. The underwear, the measly piece of fabric already rode up her behind. His fingers traced along the coral lacey hem, feeling the newly exposed skin. As his fingers explored, they’d glide in and out from the lace. Hoping to bring a bit of panic –would he ruin yet another set of matching lingerie? 

“Vegeta,” her voice failed to show any sense of urgency, “we need to get ready. You need to shower.” He noticed her skin was still warm from her shower. “We can shower next.”  
Bulma leaned back in shock, maybe he really was still asleep. Hello, damp hair, come on! She began to take a deep breathe ready to properly wake him up when she felt the reason why he thought it best to shower again. Her playful scowl melted into a saucy smirk and she settled heavily on the hard bulge below her center. “Smartass.” She huffed setting her arms on his shoulders and stroked the back of his neck. Her fingers feeling each rippling muscle under her touch. He in return, rubbed his thumb along her velvety thigh. The trip could wait. His eyes traveled from her pert breasts, her collar bone, those lips…. Then finally settled on Bulma’s gaze. He felt her rock her body, trying to be subtle. She was the responsible one after all. Coping with eagerness to fuck however, was never her strong suit. Which, her eagerness had been the reason for their coming together. Her instigations started their never-ending addiction. 

It was most out of character for him to reach out so softly first, still with the promise to treat her body. His wife was taking advantage of him (he loved it). He couldn’t help the desire inside of him, knowing she was with child—his child. It made her irresistible and he wanted to do right by his woman this time. To be by her side, to listen to her bitch, fetch her cravings, and see every inch her stomach grow. There was no argument that Bulma had become a mother much sooner than he had become a father. He wouldn’t fail her again.

His fingertips begun to dip under the front of her panties, eyes still locked with Bulma’s. He could feel her body press down on him, needing more. The way she sucked on her lip—yes, everything she wanted, he would dutifully give.

Until… Vegeta heard an excited pitter patter racing down the hall. Bulma had no time to react. Before she could even move in for the kiss, Vegeta had brought his wife to her closet. Her hair swaying with the momentum and the wind of the aftermath of his movement was the only part of her that reacted in time with him. Gently her left her there before dashing to their bedroom door. It swung open and slammed against his hand, Vegeta stopping it before exposing Trunks to his mother. He glowered down at his son, the lavender hair boy grounded his feet staring up at his dad. W-what was he so angry about?! They were going on a trip his idea and-  
“Knock.” Vegeta gruffed harshly, irritated. Trunks swallowed and nodded showing his understanding.

“Did you brush your teeth?” His voice still wrought with frustration. 

Trunks jumped high into the air, “Papa! We gotta go, yeah! I-“

Another cold stare froze Trunks in place, his eyes dropping and quickly changed gears “Okay okay! But then we have to go!” A breeze below against Vegeta’s hair as the Saiyan child booked it down the hall to finish the task his mother had initially given. Knowing his son would do well to do as he said, Vegeta closed the door without bothering to follow up. It was to his disappointment when he turned back to his wife, she was already slipping her arms into the top of her dress. She must be excited as well.

There was no need to express how the mood was ruined, it was the life of being a parent. Saiyan or human, children were the same. Monsters. Before heading to the bathroom, he pushed his hand between Bulma’s. He seized the zipper tab and easily drew it up along her back. His eyes carefully watched as the fabric closed away her beautiful skin. That should have been his this morning.

“Thanks, dear.” Bulma chimed and turned to kiss his cheek, though found herself alone with sounds of the shower already running.

 

The rest of the morning went rather quickly, Bulma delegating tasks to her assistants over breakfast (which was to be the last work-related call for the weekend). They ate a hearty breakfast to prepare the boys for the day and Bulma relished in her own energy boosting coffee.

Trunks and Bulma took their time saying good-bye to Bulma’s mother and father, Vegeta gave them a nod and took this time to load the car. “Mama, c’mon just let papa carry you and I’ll bring the luggage!” Trunks pleaded for the third time this morning, trying to get the family to the resort as quickly as possible. Vegeta didn’t need to turn and give his son his solid stare. He could hear the woman’s glare with his back turned. He quickly hid the smirk on his lips before climbing to the top of the hovercar. 

“Again?” Bulma groaned and quickly snapped her head towards Trunks who was starting to float to join his father, “Inside.” She insisted, met with a groan and “But papa gets to!” She shooed Trunks inside not wanting him to tucker out, trying to keep up with his father’s antics before they even arrived. To which her motherly instincts proved (naturally) that she was right (yet again). Not thirty minutes into the ride, Trunks had tugged off his shoes and settled in the bay area for a nap.

The rest of the trip flew by rather quickly once Vegeta had complained and sparked an ever bright fire in Bulma to rise to the challenge. Her flying, while seen reckless by some was a testament to her skill that she still had it! Flipping and rolling the hovercar, zipping through forests and waters trying to rock her husband from his perch on top of the car.  
The raven hair man gripped his arms, realizing his mistake. It wasn’t difficult to stay steady but firing up that woman…Was too easy and he was supposed to keep her calm. Blasted woman. With child and recklessly driving. He groaned in irritation at his own mistake, catching up to the title of father would take him a while yet.

 

The trip went as expected. His son and wife eager to get to the next store, both asking for his opinion and despite offering only a grunt each seemed to understand perfectly well what he meant. The best part of all, the food. Other than the octopus incident that is. He much would have preferred to stay in the shower but the duo insisted they attend the festivities of the evening. …Even sitting out the boisterous beach was better than that travesty. Bulma had tried taking his hand, Vegeta refused keeping his arms folded tight over his chest. His attention diverted everywhere, keeping a suspicious eye out with the intoxicated individuals around them—he carelessly lost sight of his family. Bulma, who kept a firm hand on Trunks sighed once realizing her husband was out of sight.

“Mama, Papa is going to get pissed-“

“Trunks.” Bulma quickly turned against the child narrowing her eyes and holding her fingers in a shape of an ‘L’ for language. Trunks’ eyes went wide and he covered his mouth with his free hand. He got three L’s before a punishment. The scolding didn’t last any longer, Bulma sighing agreeing with her child. “Where is he….”

Amongst the chanting of the energetic audience there was a sudden burst of energy knocking many guests over. Bulma and Trunks stood tall, used to that particular burst. “Well he lasted longer than I thought.” Bulma tilted her head back with a smirk watching Vegeta’s fleeting figure. “Well love, now that we know where daddy is,” or rather where he had been, “why don’t we have some fun?” She ruffled her son’s hair and took his hand again weaved them through the crowd to get a better view of the stage. They danced and snacked late into the night, Bulma surprised by her own stamina. It’d just been so long since saving the world and developing tech hadn’t been on her table. For once her shoulders weren’t taught with fear, tension, and grief. She was certain she could last for hours more—but a warm figure pressed against her side told her it was time to go.  
A Saiyan, but still a boy. Bulma smiled reaching down to pick Trunks up with a grunt. Her baby boy was getting so big! She adjusted her son on her front, the boy sitting on her hips and both of her arms burning to support his weight. The pain was nothing compared to the joy of having him snuggle his small head into her shoulder, breathing a soft “mama.” There was no pride that could hold a candle to hers in that moment, a child’s love for his mother.

The walk back to their suite was long, especially carrying a child. She didn’t want to complain. Her boy would be all grown up soon (which she had already seen with her own eyes). Soon, he wouldn’t want to be held in his mother’s arms; he’d be embarrassed to hold her hand in public. Bulma kissed the top of Trunks head, she’d savor this walk. Treasure each breathe she felt against her chest. There was a gentle wind keeping her cool. The walk was dimly lit giving the area a surreal feeling. It was near perfection, only missing one person. 

The years of anger of Vegeta’s absence had faded. She’d come to understand him like no one else. Trunks was still learning the ins and outs of his father’s personality, but with Bulma there she would see to it there would never be any discourse or doubt of Vegeta’s love. Others still doubted him. Thinking his heart black, Bulma never knew anything to be so wrong. His heart was simply full. It’d been broken and maimed since his childhood. Bulma and Trunks had easily filled those cracks and that was all Vegeta needed. She knew, that he would do anything to protect that which he owed such a debt. 

Blue hair fell off her shoulder as she looked up to the moon, chuckling softly to herself.

“Mm,” She grunted softly and adjust Trunks carefully once at the elevator. With her elbow, she pressed the top floor. The very best suite for the very best vacation. “Almost there baby,” She cooed at her sleeping son, feeling him stir in her arms as the elevator whisked them upstairs. Bulma leaned back trying to support her son on her hips, allowing one arm to briefly escape from supporting Trunks and rubbed his back. Her fingers pressed against the back of his neck, he was warm. Damn it, had he gotten sunburn? No wonder why he was so tuckered out. Her fingers pushed his lavender hair behind his ear, examining his face under the elevator light. His cheeks and top of his ears were flushed. “Baby,” Bulma scolded herself she should have applied another coat but Vegeta had insisted he’d be fine, to let him play undisturbed in the water.

_Ding._

At the elevator’s chime, Bulma stood up right and support Trunks with her arms under his behind. The dread of struggling with her hotel door was short lived. The door opening just as she arrived. Fear and sudden shock, replaced by love. Vegeta was scowling, Bulma noticed. He must have been concerned they hadn’t gone back to the room sooner. “I thought you went home.” Bulma confessed in a practiced whisper. 

Vegeta’s brow tightened. Why was she carrying the boy? He could support himself. She was in no position to support extra unnecessary weight. Keeping secrets from the woman was dangerous. He reached over and took the sleeping boy with one arm. If she wanted to baby the brat, fine. But she would do it on his terms. Thank the gods her birthday was soon, she was going to do anything she damn well pleased till then. 

Bulma watched Vegeta’s back disappear into the room adjacent to their own.

Yes. His heart was far from black. He was a good man and a wonderful father. Bulma couldn’t help herself and tailed after them, wanting to see Vegeta put his son down for the night. Precious moments that would grow more scare by the day. 

With one arm, Vegeta tugged back the blankets and gently laid his son down on the fresh linens. He tugged off his sandals and unbuttoned his top and jeans. He too noticed the redness around Trunk’s shoulders. He was Saiyan but couldn’t help but be reminded of how human too, his son was. Once he found himself angered with the notions. But he was grateful to see how well his son bonded with his mother. He also found a strange sense of pride in the affection his boy showed to him. He wished he could say Saiyan children never shared these emotions with their parents however….His childhood wasn’t as Saiyan as he wished. There were details he never got to experience or imagine. Prior to his relocation, he could remember a great sense of duty towards his own father. Trunks reminded him of that. They were not only a warrior race. But a strong, unbreakable tribe. That loyalty and pride of being part of family bond, Freiza had stripped from his mind—he found it again here, on the mudball called Earth.

Vegeta easily pulled Trunks pajama pants up his legs then carefully tugged his head through his shirt and maneuvered the child’s arms. He was glad the boy had this chance to let down his guard, to be so stead fast asleep and trust that his father would be here to protect him. He looked back over his shoulder, father and mother. He kept quiet when Bulma entered the room. Standing, Vegeta pulled the covers over his child and put an arm around his wife’s waist once she stood at his side.

Bulma’s heart pounded. He was so different in private than public, he was her secret and beloved treasure. Just today, while shopping he grunted and gruffed at her touch. Yet now, he embraced her. Bulma hugged his waist, taking her turn to snuggle her head into someone’s chest as they both looked down on their sleeping child. Vegeta inhaled, his hand traveling from her side to the center of her back, supporting her as he swept her off her feet. He dropped her off in the shower, knowing her routine. Bulma held him back a moment, pressing a kiss to her prince’s lips. “You already showered,” She mused, smelling the soap on his skin.

“You took your time.” He reasoned.

“You left the fun.”

“Fun.” Vegeta repeated with a smirk, he could show the woman what real fun was, “Shower. You need rest, Bulma. You look worn.” He didn’t mean it as an insult, in his time he learned such words (despite being facts) offended his mate. He raised his hand and pressed it to her cheek. Such statements, he also learned were lessened by affection. That was foreign. Pride, might, and loyalty ran deep in a Saiyan’s blood but affection had been both learned and given on earth. These simple touches communicated to her what he meant, he was concerned. 

Their cultures were different. They were different. Still, they learned how to communicate even as they fought. They were undoubtedly in love. In both Earth and Saiyan terms, each just had to learn how to express their affection in the other’s tongue (or by using their tongues).

Bulma leaned into his calloused touch and slouched her shoulders. She didn’t have to be a perfect woman, CEO, daughter, or friend in front of him. He’d certainly seen every side of her. “Well? You’ve kept me on my feet all day,” She slapped at his chest. “And you were angry when you hadn’t ate leaving me and Trunks to carry everything.”

“You bought too much.” Vegeta reminded her and stepped away to turn on the shower, otherwise she’d never start. He did take a small moment to reflect on the fact he should have carried her bangs, only because she was with child. It was his job to support her unconditionally during this time, no matter how many frivolous and material purchases she makes. Their petty fights would have to take the back seat, this time, he was going to be a proper father. By both culture’s standards.

“Woman.” Vegeta cut her off, Bulma still ranting on about the day. He reached for her zipper and quickly tugged it down. Hah. That shut her up. He grinned, feeling her temperature suddenly begin to climb. Her heart raced and their eyes locked. They didn’t break while Vegeta peeled her dress from her shoulders. He knew every inch of her skin. He knew, there was no one he wanted him more than her. This woman was his mate, his wife, his life. He pressed his hand to her stomach after the dressed fell to the floor.  
His queen was beautiful. 

Bulma reached up and rubbed her hands over his bare chest and kissed his collar bone. Who wanted to shower when it was the weekend? They were nearly alone…He could shower twice. Bulma grinned, after all they lost their chance this morning. “Vegeta.” She purred in a seductive voice hands reaching behind to undo her bra. For the first time, Vegeta’s eyes left hers to stare at her chest as she undressed herself. He moved his hand down along the center of her chest falling to the top hem of her panties. 

God’s they’d be easy to rip. He refrained this morning, so why not now? What’s one more pair? He’d demolished so many of them. However, he’d also come to appreciate their decorative purpose. The enchanting feel of slowly tugging it down her hips his middle finger kicking up to briefly touch the folds of skin and have his wife quiver. 

He could shower again, Vegeta agreed and pushed down Bulma’s panties the remaining way. In return, her hands found themselves at his hips before they could work down the sweat pants, they both heard a weak. “Mama~!”

_Monsters._ Vegeta reminded himself. 

Bulma had extended her arm for the robe hanging in the bathroom, Vegeata intercepted. He kissed her wrist, then jerked his head towards the shower. She’d only coddle the boy more and he would even have her in his bed at that rate. The brat wasn’t getting his way tonight. There would be no bed sharing other than husband and wife tonight! He didn’t bother to close the bathroom door as he left to attend to his son. Soft eyes peeked out from behind the safety of a blanket. A warrior, but indeed a child.

As he expected it’d been nothing but a cry for attention. Discomfort being in a bed that wasn’t his own. That was surprisingly Saiyan of him. He couldn’t begin to count the days in which he’d lost sleep after his relocation in Freiza’s army. Without the scent of his people, he was exposed. It was a shared feeling amongst Saiyans but it was unnecessary to mention. Their scent meant you were stronger in numbers. That you were successful in battle. That you returned triumphant. Here in this stale room, the scent was rampant with chemicals and faded smells of other guests. 

Vegeta didn’t need to speak with Trunks. He brushed his hand over his head and pushed the blanket from his face back to Trunk’s shoulders. The father stood guard, watching the moon from the boy’s window. His presence would be enough to lull him back to sleep. They should have brought a blanket from home—tch. A human notion though effective. Blankets weren’t acceptable in battle but for his son’s vacation…It was an appropriate exception. 

Sounds of the shower died down, Trunks’ breathing was steady. He left the room without a sound. Bulma was already in bed when he entered the room, wearing a black silky teddy. She wasn’t up and propositioning herself to him this time, finally aware of her own exhaustion. Vegeta turned off the lights and joined her in bed, draping an arm over her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” she yawned eyes already heavy. “Is Trunks fine?”

“We will join together later.” He informed and kissed at her neck, glad she’d brought soaps from home. There were no foreign smells on either of them. “The boy is at rest, you best follow suit….He’ll be up early.”

 

“Mmm.” Bulma hummed and snuggled her butt into Vegeta’s body. Her hand laid on top of his. Nothing felt safer than secure in his brace. “I love you, Vegeta.” Bulma whispered.  
Vegeta closed his eyes at the words. This had been a recent bridge he crossed, for the sake of the woman in his arms. Love was a weakness—though he learned it had been a useful tool to unlocking the legendary powers of his race. Still, she would always be a concern. If someone wanted to hurt him…. This woman was an open wound. Admitting she is anything more than a carrier for heirs is been painting a target on her back.

Vegeta had seen however, she’d been in pain not knowing. Thinking she was nothing to him…Despite his affection she had doubts. She was weak and her thoughts insulted his pride. How could she have ever thought him disloyal? He’d never shown anyone such an honor to see him without armor, much less to give that trust to another’s hand in removing it. Any whores he bedded in space never had that luxury. That trust.

The first time he’d let her relieve of his breast plate she chucked it up to being foreplay. Fool. She carelessly tossed it to the side, dropping it like a dead weight. That had killed his mood. His lip curled up at the memory, this woman…

 

_  
“Woman! You dare—“_

_“It was heavy Vegeta, what was I supposed to do? Sit still this latch is stuck!”_

_Vegeta grasped her hand and gritted his teeth. “You dare-“_

_“Again with the daring? Vege. Babe. C’mon help me out here!” She rubbed his shoulders needily, trying to egg him on as she kissed his neck. “We haven’t done it like this before…I’m excited.” She’d always worn some sort of clothing, a top covering her breasts, her dress rolled up over her stomach. Vegeta only exposing what he needed to place himself in Bulma. Their relationship had escalated quickly, but it was disappointing not seeing that body he worked desperately hard to train. Teasing her wearing tight body suits. It was hell on Earth (and with the Andriods approaching, apparently that statement wasn’t too far off). Hell, she’d seen more of his body while training! What was the big deal to see him naked in bed?_

_“There’s a reason for that.” Vegeta hissed shoving her hand roughly away and putting his hands back in his lap, glowering at her still.  
“Other than you just wanting to get it in?”_

_Vegeta smirked, “This isn’t the time to be vulgar. We agreed…. Didn’t we? Tonight we properly mate. You wanted your dates—I’ve given them to you. You give me a proper disrobing.”_

_Bulma flushed, “Can’t you say have sex, fuck…. Make love?” Her stomach flipped. Her and Vegeta had been an unexpected romp. A hot steamy hook-up to distract from the ominous future. Somewhere down the line, the hookups became frequent, routine. They wanted more and gave more—yet he’d always kept something on. His armor, his training suit. Even when she stripped for him he didn’t return the favor. Making her undo and peel off her own clothing for him. The variations of strip teases she could pull off were limited. It was just easiest to take it off and get on his cock._

_Bulma always chalked it up to the Saiyan’s lack of romance. Then came the day when she awoke to fingers tracing small circles on her back. From that morning, there was no turning back. Staring out the window, the moon’s shy light peeking through the lace curtains—he stole her heart. She didn’t want a casual routine, she wanted a life with him._

_“They all mean the same.”_

_“Not all of them.” Bulma corrected and nervously pushed her hair behind her hear._

_“Which is why,” Vegeta leaned over and grabbed the shoulder piece she dropped. Maybe it had been heavy for her small hands, she had created the material to be lighter, maybe the weight as different in her grasp. But it was the price she had to pay. “You must do this properly.” He set the piece on the bedside stand. He sat back up right and looked Bulma directly in the eyes. “Continue. Hand them to me, I will move them for you.”_

_Bulma nodded and sat up on her knees and slowly un latched each piece and strap. Carefully passing them to Vegeta’s waiting hands. “So this is how you flirted with Saiyan women.”_

_Vegeta hesitated but gave a small curt nod, “I’ve never.” He hadn’t met any females of his species. Though he heard others talk of their families. “We undress our partners as well. A Saiyan’s armor is their life. To be without it is exposing yourself entirely. A true trust amongst partners.” Vegeta looked at Bulma in her lingerie. She already had presented herself to him. Honestly that may have caused this stir in him. She shown him so much trust._

_Welcoming him. A ruthless monster into her home. Then baring her heart to him? He’d never felt that trust and need before…. He wanted to share it? It was shocking, especially to himself._

_A weight lifted off his shoulders, his breastplate falling into his lap. He started to move, intending to place the final plate with its brothers on the table. But Bulma leaned towards him. Her hair brushed against his cheek as she leaned over, her chest stopping at his shoulders. The woman reached around and unzipped his body suit. Vegeta felt his stomach stir. He stared at the nap of her neck, wanting to break their moment and kiss her. To lay her down and take her. He stiffened, tightening his muscles and warning his body, he would wait. The fabric pooled at his waist as they both sat, knee to knee. He was shirtless and she still only in her bra and panties._

_It was the first time. His body felt tight like he couldn’t breathe. He was certain something would happen. Something would attack—instead. A warmth spread over his chest, just over his heart. Bulma’s hand touched his chest. “You’ve barred your heart to me. Can I show you mine now?”_

_It wasn’t a Saiyan way to ask, but fuck, nothing would sound more perfect than that._

_“You won’t be doing anything.” Vegeta chastised and reached his hand to hers, moving the dainty wrist in his calloused fingers to her lap. His lips tightened into a hard line and he sat his hands on each of her shoulders. Vegeta was in no rush, unlike his heart that beat heavily in his chest. He was afraid the walls would fall in. That in this very moment, this precious, scared moment the androids would burst in and take everything dear._

_“Bulma.”_

_His voice was low and gravely, bringing a red blush to Bulma’s cheeks. They’d been getting serious, but for some reason this felt more real than anything before. As if that was the first time he properly called out to her. She shivered, his thumbs caressed her skin and swopped her bra straps from her shoulders. It became difficult to meet his dark eyes, he’d never…. Undressed her before._

_Vegeta gave a soft sound of protest and reached to her chin, encouraging her to meet his gaze. His woman was typically on fire in bed. Demanding he do this and that to her. It was endearing to see her so smitten with his culture. At least it seemed she now understood the significance of letting your partner disrobe you for the first time. Why he’d been so resistant to ever tear her shirt from her body, though he had. But never her undergarments. Tch. After this, that would change._

_Keeping each other’s gaze, Vegeta’s hand slipped to Bulma’s back. Bulma worried his pride would be hurt if he fumbled with the small hooks. She figured he’d just rip them apart rather than face that embarrassment in such a moment. To her surprise, he unlatched it easily. Vegeta seemed to catch her inkling of surprise._

_“I’ve watched you dress in the morning, woman. I know as much about your armor as you do mine.”_

_Bulma chuckled but nodded fondly, her breath hitching when Vegeta pulled the fabric from her chest and set it on top of his armor plates. They both eyed the confusing pile, yet felt proud._

_“Vegeta,” Bulma leaned in towards him and took the Saiyan prince in an embrace. Vegeta’s arm came around her back, hugging her close. Not denying the joy the heat of her bare chest pressed against his own felt. He knew he was undeserving of this pleasure. But now that it was his he wouldn’t yield it to any other. This joy, this feeling would never be shared outside these walls. He’d never let anyone see the love he was showing to her now. She would never become a target on his behalf.  
_

Opening his eyes, Vegeta sighed at the memory. His hand roamed over Bulma’s side before settling on her stomach again. _“I love you,”_ He whispered the Saiyan words into her ear. A phrase rare to grace Saiyan lips however; he wouldn’t ever allow that doubt to cloud her mind. Things would be different with their second child. Vegeta was aware he’d changed over the last few years becoming even more entwined with an Earthling lifestyle. Even going as far to finally commit to an Earth custom, which Bulma insisted was the equal to a Saiyan disrobing. Marriage. He had grunted and groaned at the time, though begun to feel comfort knowing they were bound together by two laws and customs.

His muscles relaxed hearing Bulma’s steady breath. Focusing and widening his senses, he could feel all three of their energies. Trunks, Bulma’s, and that of their unborn child. Everyone was accounted for an under his watch. Another sigh fell from his lips and onto Bulma’s neck, allowing himself to fall into a rare deep sleep.

 

Finally came the day of her birthday. No longer would he have to pretend he didn’t have a gift or keep the woman from acting recklessly. It’d been a task proving more difficult than he anticipated especially when she insisted on doing all the birthday preparations herself. The shock on her face had been priceless when Vegeta had volunteered to fetch the dragon balls for her grand prize gift. …Soon, she’d get the damn picture! He lost valuable training time at this child’s expense. Of course he opted to stay on land as long as he could manage. Finally enjoying the solitude of the gravity chamber. Hell, the ship was docking tonight, he could just tell her then. Last gift of the night, a perfect ending, that’s what she was always going on about, that he needed to be more romantic. “Like the disrobing,” She would say. Woman it wasn’t romance but a custom. A rite of passage. Despite his protest, one angry call later and found himself flying out to the ship—had he only known moments later he’d be less of a man.

 

True fear was forgetting the world around you. Not out of anger or spite, but worry. You couldn’t concern yourself with the little things like pride or dignity when a true monster was at your door. Threatening to not only knock it down, but blow away everything in its wake. Beerus, the god of destruction, who once belittled him as a child and disgraced his father stood before him, in what Vegeta feared could be the final time. The Earth was damned on the being’s mood. A single whim and they’d all bite the dust, not leaving any time for regrets…They’d just be gone.

He never wondered if his father would laugh at him, or if he’d understand when Vegeta started dancing like Beerus’s puppet. Preparing him food, waiting on his hand and foot. Bulma had even accused him of being too up tight, when trying to desperately please Beerus. No. The humans didn’t understand who they were engaging. Earthlings never understood the pressure of the universe.

When they did, it was too late. The pendulum had swung and the god of destruction was glowering, damning them. They fought in a futile effort. Which would be no better than his own. But he would fight, in the end. He would be the one pillar of hope and stand against the odds…He didn’t want to have to take this step to show how weak he was in the face of this power. He wanted to die with pride. Standing tall, without losing. 

_It’s over….It’s all over._

Then she screamed his name. His hand stopped trembling and he wiped the sweat from his brow and chin. Bulma was afraid. She was angry he wasn’t fighting. She didn’t understand, but his mate expected him to fight. Gods…She was a Saiyan in another life, wasn’t she? He tried to rise once more and gain the god’s favor—pointless.

_It’s over._

Trembling Vegeta lowered his head, his energy and backed down from the fight…They all had seen how pointless it was to fight, right? No. They still didn’t get it. They thought he was just a coward. Another monster finally showing his real colors. The dark heart Saiyan who wouldn’t go out of his way to save the planet, he wasn’t their Goku.  
Even Trunks and Goten attempted to rise to the fight before himself…All of them, failed. One after the other, they were slowly coming to understand how pointless this was.  
What the hell was he doing?

It didn’t matter how pointless the battle was.

He was the prince of Saiyains, he had to step in, he had pride. Still. His pride paled. Reduced to a pathetic standstill in front of Beerus who easily flicked him to the ground. 

_It’s over._

He was no hero…

The Saiyan could do nothing under the god’s foot. His skull slowly being crushed into the cruiser ship’s floor. Memories of his father faded in and out. He didn’t want to remember that. His father reduced to a fetal whimpering coward! He didn’t want his son to see him, just as he’d seen his own father! 

Vegeta gasped as the pressure lifted from his head, Beerus stepping away announcing the fate of the Earth.

This was it? He’d bested the odds until this point. Now, at the hands of a god of destruction he’d meet his hand?

“Maybe it’s a proud way to go, at the hands of a god of a destruction.” A warrior fell in battle. Here was a father of destruction, he couldn’t lay a scratch on him. It wasn’t shameful to accept this. To accept the true end of the royal line. No end could come from a higher punisher.  
Vegeta smirked, his eyes slowly starting to close.

__  
It’s over.  
It’s finally over.  


Vegeta’s teeth clench in protest to his faux resolution. He wasn’t ready for the line to end, but there was no choice to be had. The Earth’s warriors had been bested—and.  
He snapped his eyes open. A sudden energy coming towards him. The sound of sneaker darting towards him in a determined rhythm. Why did he have to have that sound memorized? To know the feeling of her presence. He tried to ignore it, to accept his fate with what little pride he had left. But he couldn’t ignore what was in front of him. A powerless Earthling daring the god of destruction. Her hand raised.

_It’s over. Don’t do it._

_Bulma. For fuck’s sake don’t—_

Saiyan’s were a warrior race; nothing mattered more than a battle, being the strongest. To the prince’s surprise, he had recently learned where that power came from. The reason to battle. His family. His love. His pride. They were just as much his pride as his own arrogance.

Like a twig under a heavy foot, Vegeta snapped. His mind blanked the moment Beerus’s hand collided with Bulma’s cheek, sending her mortal body flying.

_It’s over…For you…..BASTARD!!_

“That’s. My. Bulma!” Vegeta roared in an unparalled rage. His vision went white overwhelmed by his own power. The white bled into a vibrant red, revenge. No hand would ever get away with touching his woman’s skin. He lifted off, bulldozing towards the purple skinned god. Vegeta pulled no punches, unleashing his rage. If Trunks and Goten hadn’t caught her, every bone in her body could have shattered. The thought poisoned him, driving him further from rationality. It didn’t matter if he died here. It didn’t matter if the Earth would be destroyed moments later, all he cared about was avenging his mate. Putting any amount of hurt on her assailant.

_It was a futile thought._

Once more, the god put the prince in his place. Compared to him, Earthlings and Saiyans alike were dust in the wind.  
How pathetic was he?  
He failed.

The prince would fall, like every other to the God of Destruction.

How could he so easily give in, to let go of reason? He boasted about his tactical abilities. Yet in the face of it all…he was beaten and his family had been struck, all alive but wounds evident. Once again, he was thrown to the floor of the cruiser, this time at his wives’ knees. He was going to die by her side.  
Why did he find relief in that?

If Kakarot hadn’t arrived and taken Beerus’s attention they would really be dead, wouldn’t they? When the third class arrived, joy erupted over the passengers. Here was a hero they could believe in, who would pull through. Dammit…Even he felt a fleeting sense of relief. Now he couldn’t die, he wasn’t going to leave any world with Kakarot holding something over his head.

The rage of the god was halted, thankfully. Though in part due to all the Saiyans present. Ironically thanks to Videl coming forth announcing her own pregnancy. Together, these Saiyans, pure of heart, would send their power forth and into Goku’s body. Recognizing him as their savior—a god among Saiyans. The beast Beerus had come to Earth to find. Should the Saiyan god win, Beerus explained, Earth would be spared.

With the deal struck, the Saiyan Prince craned his neck to watch the battle commence. Vegeta clenched his fists, remaining steadfast in his position as the rest of the persons on the ship shuffled after the now standing Bulma; following her to board her ship to fly. Following the battle for Earth. Tch. They all had more hope in Kakarot. Today proved most still lacked faith in him. Maybe even his own wife and child.

Hell, he even lacked faith. How could you believe in someone who couldn’t protect his own woman? He couldn’t stand by her side and watch another man fight for her honor. For Earth. He hated he had to put his faith in that lower class Saiyan as well. That he had conceded and named Kakarot the god among Saiyans. He would take that title. Today, Kakarot would beat this rat-bastard giving him and Kakarot another day to fight. 

 

_……Right…?_

Vegeta felt his heart stop watching the battle come to its end. His rivals body, appearing from the heaven’s like a bright burning star—falling to its untimely end. Leaving a blazing, fiery, bloody trail in its wake.

If it was over, he wouldn’t let a brother fall to his end, crushed and shattered. 

“Move!” He shouted dashing over to the center of the ship, arms out stretched to catch the fallen, beaten Saiyan. He clutched the limp body tightly, breaking the impact. Kakarot had even lost…? He could not find the courage to find joy in his brother-in-arm’s defeat. A trickle of relief entered him when Goku opened his eyes, the pair sharing a brief moment of banter. The moment stolen yet again, by the presence of the God.

“If Son Goku won, the Earth would be spared…That was the deal.” Beerus declared rising his arm at the feeble band of warriors. The hero shaking and pleading, too weak from the battle moments before to offer any last ditch effort.

They would have no time to say goodbye. Vegeta looked over his shoulder, for the first time, daring to turn his back on enemy. Bulma was shaking. Trunks wasn’t looking for his father, his fearful eyes trained on his mother. Vegeta clenched his fist feeling the ominous power boil up from Beerus then spill and wash over them…. He gritted his teeth, but the hit never came. Instead, the power rose above their heads. The monster was asleep? H-he missed!?

Vegeta didn’t want to argue. None of them had. It was an anti-climatic end, but at least it was with their lives intact. Whis, Beerus’s attendant seemed hardly surprised and casually bid them goodbye, completely unphased by the day (other than his true enjoyment of Earth foods). In an instant, he disappeared, taking the resting god with him.  
Vegeta slapped his hand over his face.

Fucking pathetic. He still had strength in him unlike Kakarot and he yielded again, accepting their fate. He was just going to let another planet be wiped from his life! The Saiyan grunted and growled, stalking off towards bow of the ship. He didn’t feel it as was his place to be part of the party behind him. Everyone cheerily hugging each other, excitedly grabbing and laying out food to help replenish Goku’s strength. For themselves to, enjoying how sweet it tasted to be alive.

A lonely breeze brushed over his cheek.

Vegeta looked to his side…So where was Bulma, his son? Why weren’t they hugging his arm in delight? He scowled at the vast ocean, the skyline ahead showing the city starting to twinkle under dusk’s light. They were disappointed. His head begun to hang, starting to feel shame.

“Next time it’s your turn, Vegeta!” Goku laughed, the fighter having an annoying knack for pinpointing a glowering mind. Trying to be the hero even in someone’s personal battle. Vegeta scoffed, wanting to brush the other Saiyan off, though his attention brought back when the other confessed to hearing Vegeta’s declaration of Bulma. 

It was nothing to be ashamed of. Vegeta folded his arms and looked at the passengers. Ff Kakarot was going to boast on about it, he at least wanted to see her face. Vegeta’s body tensed in an instant. When had she left the deck? He surveyed the scarce crowd, he knew he hadn’t missed her the first time but he hoped.

He sighed letting out a deep breath before calming his nerves, reaching out to feel for his family. His muscles struggled to ease up. They had been assaulted with tension it was the first wave of ease he’d allowed himself since that monster had arrived. He figured he’d have to lower his energy another notch before being able to pinpoint a human’s—but her energy was spiked. Vegeta brushed shoulders with anyone foolish enough to not step aside. Inside the ship, he found Trunks in a hallway his hand against a set of doors. “Mama?” The boy’s voice was taut, he could hear tears in his voice, afraid. The world had nearly ended and now he was afraid?

“Trunks.” Vegeta’s voice echoed down the hall as he approached. His son turned towards his father with a panicked face. “I…I told her we should have turned back! But I didn’t think,” Trunks started to stumble and mumble his words, frantic to find an excuse. When his papa was fighting he had one job, protecting his mother. 

Before Vegeta could ask what happened, he heard the sound that plagued the child. An accursed sound. Muffled sobs and cries; from behind the lavatory door. Vegeta’s hands clenched Trunk’s shoulders. How-why? She’d walked up to the face of death without an ounce of fear and now--?

Vegeta stood up right, realization washing over him. He followed only two energies here.

“Bulma!” He called out frantic and roughly shoved the bathroom door open. The hinge came off from its hook. The first of four stalls was closed, the sneakers he had insisted Bulma wear showing at the bottom of the stall. He didn’t care about privacy or waiting. He ripped open the bathroom stall door, knowing already the tragedy behind it.  
He dropped the door on the bathroom floor and stared at his wife, her hands covering her mouth trying to contain her shock and fear. Tears lining her eyes.

“It hurts,” she sobbed. “It wasn’t from his hit…It just…Started hurting And-“ Bulma squeezed her thighs together, her panties around her knees, red. “Vegeta, it hurts so bad.” She sobbed. “W-whats happening to me?”

What was he supposed to do? How could he have let this happen? She was hurting, it was his fault his child….. His precious child. He stared at Bulma’s stomach, hoping that somehow this was a mistake. After everything he sacrificed to protect this damn planet why couldn’t the Kai’s protect them for once? Why?! If not him, why not her?! A human! A peaceful fucking human who’s done nothing but bring life and joy to the world she is in! Why! Why would anyone take anything from her?!

Vegeta dropped to his knees and put his hands on Bulma’s thighs. There was nothing a Saiyan could do but maybe Earthlings would be useful for something.  
He should have told her.

What the fuck was he thinking…Waiting to tell her for her birthday?

This was his fault…He was selfish and blind. He let his own weakness kill his child. Bulma should have never had to approach the god.

“Bulma,” he said in a whisper, “we have to get you to a hospital.”

Bulma couldn’t believe her own ears, maybe the pain was getting to her. Vegeta scoffed at hospitals and the idea of help. Why would he even think she needed it? She had thought, maybe it was a violent period. She’d missed a month but it wasn’t uncommon for her. It was painful and sudden, but she had thought maybe…No she knew something was wrong, but what would Vegeta know?

“O-okay.” Bulma said with another sob, “but my dress, my legs.” Her hands trembled trying to cover her mouth embarrassed as she stood, there was blood on her. Still dripping from her. Her legs wobbled and Vegeta quickly rose to scoop her up. “Trunks,” He said as calmly as he could manage, his voice hard. “Give me your top.” 

The boy who had stood at the bathroom’s door didn’t ask, only quickly unbuttoned his top before handing it to his father. “Pa-p-pa,” he said reaching towards his back and trying to side-step and get a peek at this mother. Vegeta reached behind himself taking the fabric and easily turned his waist to keep his son’s eyes from laying on Bulma. For her sake and his son, he didn’t want the boy to see her like this. “Go to your grandparents. Tell them they’re to arrive home as soon as possible.” He used the top to barely wrap around Bulma’s behind. It wouldn’t do much other than absorb the blood and provide her with some feeling of cover.

“Ma-“

“Go.” Vegeta interrupted cruelly. Right now it did not matter. His priorities were getting her to a hospital to see if the doctors could save what he was sure was lost.  
I’ve given up too many times today…..I will not do it again.

Without another second to spare, Bulma cradled her head into Vegeta’s neck as he lifted into the air and bursted into mad dash, racing the clock. He held her closer, pushing himself harder, to fly faster. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable. He could feel her body tense and tremble. What was right, what was he supposed to do?! Make her comfortable? She didn’t even understand, fuck she didn’t even know that it was already too late. 

At the hospital, Vegeta bolted into the automatic doors and up to the counter. Bulma’s paling face and bloodied thighs instantly had the nurse’s attention. “Bulma Briefs.” Vegeta told them, for once glad to use the pressure of his wife’s name. She would receive the best care. Her family provided not only donations but equipment. They damn well better do anything in their power to help them. Putting her in a wheel chair, Vegeta kept up with the team.

“Do you know what happened, sir?” They asked, albeit a little afraid they may be dealing with the woman’s attacker. Vegeta didn’t seem to notice or care for their warry faces. Hell…. This was how she was going to find out? He put his hand on her shoulder, a silent apology. 

“She’s with child. And has suffered trauma.” Vegeta begrudgingly confessed. The words ‘with child’ that had brought him so much joy these past few weeks, now carried a heavy weight. He could see Bulma’s eyes widened in fright. “N-no!” Bulma gasped, “I…” She hugged her stomach.

Vegeta looked to the doctors, “please.” He needn’t say more, his plight understood. 

It was uncomfortable having the doctors explain she was seven weeks pregnant. The doctor said it wasn’t uncommon for people to not be aware of their pregnancy when they weren’t trying for a baby. Though it would explain her skipped period and other subtle changes that she may have been experiencing. Vegeta, stiffened and looked away from Bulma. Ashamed to say how long he’d known and kept it from her. Maybe if he’d been forth coming the events would have played differently. Still he kept close, Bulma’s hand locked around his arm.

Beerus hadn’t even instilled this feeling in him. He’d accepted his fate…Like a damn fool hadn’t stopped to think about his family in the face of certain death only thought of being a warrior going down in a blaze of glory. Now this was true helplessness. Being with your family and unable to do anything for them. He feared how Bulma would recover. She was sensitive about her body and a loving mother. Vegeta slowly moved one hand to rest on top of hers. He’d taken something from her. Unable to protect it, meant he’d taken it.  
“Unfortunately, I regret to say, the child is no longer living. The cramping you initially felt, that you may have assumed were period cramps were the first signs. When you started feeling the more intense pain, it was your body hemorrhaging. We would not have been able to save the fetus as this stage, Mrs. Briefs.” 

Bulma turned her head towards Vegeta’s arm, hiding her face. She wasn’t a weak woman, but who could be strong a time like this? When she’d been driving her ship to follow Goku she thought those light pains were aches from Beerus’s hit. Trunks had even asked if they should turn around but she ignored him, her precious baby boy. Bulma felt her throat go raw. “Where’s Momma?” She asked, “Where’s Trunks?”

“Ma’am,” The Doctor interrupted before Vegeta could explain. “At this moment before we call in the rest of your family, I recommend we first make a decision. Your pregnancy was still early on, we can prescribe medication to assist your body in passing the tissue. The other option, and I may recommend, is surgery—a D&C to clean up the tissue now, due to the excess bleeding. It is ultimately your call,” The doctor folded his hands behind his back and turned to walk to the door, “I’ll give you a mo-“

“Please…I know we should have to schedule but…But…Please…” Bulma sniffled and wiped her eyes and nose on the back of her hand. “I can’t….Sit here with my baby-“ her voice trembled unable to finish. 

Vegeta restrained the urge to rage at the doctor, to take his self-shame and hatred out on anyone. He wanted to scream for her, instead he wrapped his arms around Bulma’s shoulders. Showing his solidarity with her decision.

“We’ll arrange the procedure Mrs. Briefs.” He nodded first to her then turned his attention to Vegeta. “Mr. Briefs, A nurse will back with some paper work shortly. We’ll be arranging for her to stay the night. If you would care to contact your family, arrange for them to bring clothing. That would be fine for post-surgery.” 

The doctor leaving the room, left the air stale. Vegeta gathered his strength and rounded the bed to stand in front of Bulma, his head hung. 

“I’m sorry-.” They both said at once, but only Vegeta looked up in shock, teeth clenched. Bulma’s chin still tucked tightly against her chest, hot tears slowly falling from her eyes.  
“I didn’t know, how could I not know? Women know these things right? Or Saiyans do—“ Bulma laughed, it sounded forced and raw. The faux chuckle cutting through her insecurities and doubts. “This is the one job you expect of me, to bare children and….I was too weak.”

“Bulma-“

“I was too weak, Vegeta.” She repeated, shaking her head in disgust. “I failed.”

“Woman. You did not fail. You are not weak. And you have no reason to apologize.” He leaned forward, kissing Bulma’s temple. “I wanted to tell you the moment I felt an energy bloom inside of you.” His strong arms took the blue hair woman into a gentle embrace, it slowly tightened as he spoke. “I thought…You would appreciate the gift. A special surprise tonight.” He confessed, his throat tightening. “I…I failed you, Bulma. I wasn’t thinking. Beerus…” Vegeta closed his eyes, picturing his father on the ground under his foot. “I got lost in my head—I should have just taken you and the boy.”

Bulma felt her lips twitch briefly in a smile and snuggle into Vegeta’s chest. “You couldn’t run away from your home, Vegeta. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. It was not just me you were trying to protect.”

“….I gave up.” He whispered, his shoulders sagging.

Bulma pressed her palm into the center of Vegeta’s back. “That’s why I stepped in. You…Were afraid and that isn’t a bad thing, love.” She looked up into Vegeta’s eyes. They were unsteady, desperately watching her, depending on her. “You protect me when I’m afraid. I will always be there for you, when you’re afraid. The world was riding on your shoulders and you were ready to take the first wave of whatever Beerus was going to throw at us.” Her hand slowly soothed his back, she could feel him starting to stand up right again, finding his bearings.

“I’m so proud of you. Even if you’re not, I know I can’t say the right thing right now. But—I love you Vegeta. I love you so much, I just-“

The Saiyan leaned in, taking her lips in a kiss trying to hold off her tears. “I love you, Bulma. You are not weak. Far from it. Not even a Saiyan woman would step up to the god of destruction like that, with no plan.” He nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “Thank you.” He kissed just under her ear. This wasn’t the time to step in a cycle of self-criticism. Hmph. Even now she was trying to protect him, stupid woman. Stupid, stupid, perfect woman. She was guiding him and trying to restore his pride. He would be nothing without her, his family.

“And I will never…Allow myself to give in like that again. On our child’s memory.”

Bulma nodded looking down to press her hands on her stomach. “You’ll stay with me tonight?”

“Yes.”

Returning with paperwork, Vegeta took the clipboard and scribbled the answers as Bulma read over his shoulder. She had attempted to write but found her hand too unsteady. He quickly stole the documents and pen before she could dip further into any despair. Instead finding the charming distraction of Vegeta trying to fill in the insurance information. He stepped out only once, to call the Briefs’ Family and explain the situation. Asking them to bring with them a change of clothes for both he and his wife. He didn’t complain when Trunks insisted to take the phone, “Papa?” His voice distraught.

“Your mother is fine, Trunks. There was a complication, but we’ll be alright.” He hesitated then spoke outright. “Your mother needs you right now, understood? When you see her, you tell her how much you love her.” It was an uncharacteristic request and Trunks felt the weight of the situation on his shoulders. He felt, it wasn’t only his mom that needed to hear it.

“I love you, papa…”

The line went quiet, not even breathing heard on either end of the phone.

“You too, Trunks.” Vegeta said facing into the hospital wall, his shoulders brought up his too his ears. He wouldn’t be able to say these words to his late child, he’d never get the chance. “I love you. Now. Get cleaned up. Be good for your grandparents.” He grunted, quickly ending the call. It wasn’t the Saiyan way—but it was his way now. Just for them. Just for his family could he embrace this custom. He lost the chance to say it to one of them, he almost lost the chance to say it to all of them. To let them know, he wasn’t the heartless prince. Not for them. Never again, not as long as his queen was in his life.

 

“Mr. and Mrs Briefs?” a woman asked as she tapped twice on their door. She entered and quietly introduced herself as a therapist for the hospital. Sitting before them both, the woman set her clipboard to the side. 

“During times like these, we often like to take a moment to speak with patients about what to except following the procedure.” She paused, feeling her pulse quicken under the hard gaze of the man in the room. His eyes hadn’t left her since she stepped foot inside. His glare hard and strong. 

“Things feel differently for everyone,” The doctor nervously continued and looked from each of them, trying to keep her gaze primarily on Bulma. “Some parents find it more difficult after hearing the child’s heartbeat. Some find it worse because they never got that chance to even connect. “ She leaned forward in her seat and pushed back her red bangs. “What is important to know, it is not unnatural if you don’t feel …Okay.” The woman gave a soft, encouraging smile.

“It’s okay if you do or don’t bounce right back. There is nothing I can say that will ease or predict the process you’re about to go through. My only advice however is you cannot let it consume you. Take your time to grieve but if it goes on for too long, please do not hesitate to contact us and we can help put you in contact with someone to help.”

Standing, she glanced at her clipboard once more. “Per your request, we’ve been able to secure an appointment. If you need time, Mrs. Briefs we can still put off the procedure. Earlier, everything had been thrusted upon you. If you’re still okay with the D&C, I’ll let the nurses know and they’ll come prep you for surgery. It’s my understanding due to the events today, you were unable to eat?”

 

Her kindness unnerved Bulma, even if it was her job to be empathic. She was right, everything had been happening so quickly and with the rotation of nurses and doctors she’d hardly had a moment to herself. Still, she nodded. Maybe if she had taken a moment to stop and eat at her party things would have gone differently. “Yes.” She said, trying to instill confidence in the woman. Her gaze darting up to the therapist, Vegeta, then her lap.

“They’ll be back shortly Mrs. Briefs.”

Bulma’s hands couldn’t steady themselves. They didn’t feel right on her stomach. They were uncomfortable on her thighs, she touched her finger to her lips, chin, and neck.  
“Bulma.” Vegeta’s deep voice pulled her focus towards him, holding her breath. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, her voice wavering. “I just can’t get comfortable and-“ 

Vegeta reached out grabbing her hands, squeezing them. “Woman.” What was he to say that he hadn’t already? He bit his tongue, warding off his usual coldness and irritation at the thought of repeating himself. He squeezed her hands again, once feeling them move under his grasp. “You’re comfortable with me” He insisted. Vegeta could understand her discomfort. The sterile room, the rotating door of strangers, and their invasive questions. Soon they’d have her on back, unguarded.

“Ve,” Bulma leaned her body forward and rested her head in the nook of Vegeta’s neck. “I didn’t hear anything…. But you did? A-are you okay?” Her hands twisted to hold Vegeta’s, trying to send that same feeling of support. The way her hands would occasionally fidget and shake, irritated him. He couldn’t calm her like he normally could, his embrace wasn’t enough. He’d shown too much weakness today, she could no longer depend on him, could she? Why did it matter that he had felt the child, she was the one carrying them.  
“It does not matter what I felt, Bulma.”

His wife shook her head against his neck, “stop trying to act like that.” She sunk further against him. “This is your child, you felt them Vegeta. I don’t…I didn’t. I’m a bad mother”  
Vegeta tensed and groaned, he didn’t know what to say! “Bulma….Yes. I regret that you could not share what I felt. But your body knew. You were changing, you were doing everything correctly.” He cupped the back of her head, urging her to look up. “There is no greater mother than you. I, will become stronger, the father so the mother will never falter in her beliefs again.” Touching their foreheads together, Vegeta sighed. “Do not let that damn god take away anything else from you.”

Bulma’s lip trembled and she nodded, breaking their gaze Bulma found herself back in his embrace. His chest was hard but his hold was gentle. His free hand, gently stroked her back. Every time she sniffled, she felt him stiffen. Her discomfort was his. Despite everything he said, this man wasn’t at rest unless she was. It was terrifying to be loved to deeply, but she didn’t know where she’d be without it.

“You’re going to go train after this, aren’t you?” Bulma asked with her eyes closed, her edginess lost in his strong hold.  
“Hn.” What else had she expected? It was evident he was the lesser man. That he still could not be whole heartedly depended on and now…Kakarot had ascended to an even greater level of Saiyan than himself. 

Bulma nodded, “I’ll see if I can upgrade the gravity room to a higher level.” It would be a good distraction.

“I will be traveling some for this training, woman. However….My departure will take some time.” The prince’s lips kissed Bulma’s neck. “ _‘The time will vary,’_ according to every damn clipboard.” He sneered. Bulma couldn’t help but laugh, the sound like warm caramel drizzling over a cold ice cream, slowly breaking that over whelming chill. His curtness was miracle cure for her heart, a gift only he had.

“Has that seriously been bothering you? Everyone carrying those around?”

“Tch.” 

“Vegeta!” Bulma laughed and hugged her Saiyan tight. “Not everyone is a genius like me, you need to take proper notes.”

“Let’s go home.”

Bulma laughed again, she needed that, her anti-hospital prince back. Bulma put her hands on his cheeks she held him still for a kiss. Vegeta didn’t protest, the rules of his demeanor written off for the day. Whatever his queen needed, he would unquestionably surrender. His will, was hers. He could never give up again, for her sake. For that same reason, without any other Saiyan’s aide, he would become the next Saiyan god. The next time she would be with child, he wouldn’t leave her side. No one would dare approach them. He would have that power in the palm of one hand, his wife, his mate, his Bulma in the other.

_This love was his and he would never surrender it to anyone again._

**Author's Note:**

> Sososo how was it?
> 
> I will be 1000000% honest I almost didn’t post this because of formatting. I had no idea I couldn’t just copy and paste from word onto here. Soo…yeah a lot of little italics and shit were lost, I may have to ask for someone for advice lolol I AM WEAK.
> 
> The image is thanks to [kyllu on tumblr](http://kyllu.tumblr.com/post/161773560764/update-hey-my-dudes-we-managed-to-raise-enough#_=_%20). Please hit up her commission page! She is hella nice and I can babble so for her to endure me? She’s too perfect <3 If you do take her up on a commission after reading this, be sure to drop a line that you came from my way. I’m commissioning her for another fic as well and I’d like to make this an ongoing thing (so knowing she gets traffic from me will hella help). 
> 
> I have other ideas for more VegeBul fics, just trying to find the right motivation for it!
> 
> Also, quick shoutout, there are a lot of talented writers and artists that have collectively inspired me to put my work out in the public. I’d like to take a moment to shine that spotlight on two of them: LadyVegeets and Rutbisbe. I’ve never talked to them before, but I think they’re both very well known in this fandom. So thanks for all your hard work! Your constant presence and interpretations of VegeBul is a constant push for me to join the fun lol. I hope one day, I can inspire people like they’ve inspired me.


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